All nightI floatin the shallow pondswhile the moon wandersburning, bone white, among the milky stems.OnceI saw her hand reachto touch the muskratâ€™ssmall sleek headand it was lovely, oh, I donâ€™t want to argue anymoreabout all the thingsI thought I could not live without! Soonthe muskratwill glide with another into their castleof weeds, morningwill rise from the easttangled and brazen, and before thatdifficultand beautifulhurricane of lightI want to flow outacross the mother of all waters, I want to lose myselfon the blackand silky currents, yawning, gathering the tall liliesof sleep.